I'm beginning this story a bit sooner than I expected. This is only the prologue though, so bear with this slightly unconventional start to an Immortal Dynasty. To my regret, it won't be eligible for the Hall of Fame, as I'm using my own CAW world (which will be uploaded to the Exchange soon). As it's unofficial, I'm going to carry on using my mods (I use Twallan's Errortrap and Overwatch, and don't use them for gameplay purposes, just to keep my game running smoothly). As the story may demand it, I reserve the right to add a character or two. I realise this takes away one of the worries of an Immortal Dynasty (finding a good spouse), but as I'm not able to reach Hall of Fame status, I'm at least going to try and tell a good story
As for the rest, I will be taking the challenge seriously, and sticking to the rules (else, what's the point?). The prologue is done in a separate game file.
Here seems as good a point as any to mark out the obligatory blurb with traits and requirements
Generation 1 - Constance Cabot: immortalTraits: Green-fingered, nurtering, good, angler, loves the outdoors
Supermax skills: Gardening (supermaxed)
Lifetime wish: Perfect Garden (achieved)
Career: Gardener (maxed)
BlackOps: Grape-Aid, Uncommonly Good, Outstandingly Rare, Aquarium Fishing, The Omnificent Plant, Stomping Grapes
Venues: Nameless Pond, Mike's Cornerstore (renamed Cabot Grocery Store)
Lifetime Rewards: Professional Simoleon Booster, Super Green Thumb, Eye Candy
Portraits: YA, A, E
Best friends: Cary Twinstar, Peter Devlin, Patience Devlin, Bryan Escobar, Justin Joseph Devlin, Stacie Plummer
Generation 2: Patience DevlinTraits: friendly, excitable, neat, natural cook, family oriented
Supermax skills: Cooking
Lifetime wish: Culinary Librarian (achieved)
Career: Culinary
BlackOps: Outside Reading, Work for a day, Fix the Boiler, Corporate Diner,
Venues: Bistro
Lifetime Rewards: Speedy Cleaner, Discount Diner, Born to Cook
Portraits: Toddler, child, teen, YA
Best friends:
This is set in the early 19th century, on an Island near continental Europe. Time will move on as generations pass. Oh, and 'Cabot' is pronounced 'Ka-boe'. I've heard that the surname crossed the ocean to New England some centuries ago - what can you expect of a sea-faring Island? One more thing - I originally got the idea for the name from a book I read, called Green Dolphin Country by Elizabeth Goudge. I think it's beautifully written (although the parts of it which set in New Zealand, from a modern perspective are very prejudiced). Parts of it are set in the part of the world that I've drawn inspiration from for my CAW island, so it seemed fitting. The
story is nothing like the one I will be telling, but I'd be foolish if I said it hadn't influenced my writing.
I hope you enjoy it. I certainly am enjoying it. I've never done an Immortal Dynasty before, or even really a multi-generational game, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed for this.
I'm dedicating this story to Krrank, Chuckles_82, Audren, judewright, Deklitch, OhMyZeus and Swirl_Girl, who kindly offered to beta-test Green Dolphin Island, and have offered much support, help, and useful feedback during the making of it! And thank you to everyone who has offered their comments and support during the world-building adventure, I've really appreciated it.
Prologue 1: What lies beneath
Constance was a content child. She had the happy gift of enjoying what are sometimes called the ‘small things in life’, which in reality make up the majority of the physical human experience, and should therefore be accorded the importance they deserve.
She loved food. Her mother, Marie Cabot, cooked excellently; with the abundance of fresh fish her husband caught, and her homegrown vegetables, she could have been a far less accomplished cook and still provided delicious food, but as it was, she was widely acknowledged as keeping the best table in the Island. Connie loved helping in the kitchen, but was well aware that her own efforts were generally inedible, and even when she grew up, would never be even a quarter as good as her mother’s. Nonetheless, the kitchen, with its warm, fragrant atmosphere, was a very pleasant place to while away the time.
She enjoyed playing with the other children in town. She thought that having fun must be the most worthwhile pursuit a human being could have, because, as she reasoned to her mother later with cheerful simplicity, she wanted everyone to be happy, and one of the best ways to be happy was to do what you enjoyed doing.
She enjoyed being outside, being near her beloved ocean, and feeling the wind fresh off the sea, and blowing her hair into such tangles that her mother would tut and sigh when combing her hair out. She loved it when her father would take her fishing, baiting the line for her, and showing her the tell-tale signs of nearby fish.
She adored her parents.
Her father Joseph Cabot, a fisherman, was a reticent but kind man, and after a drop of what he called ‘grog’ and her mum called ‘the drink’, could be persuaded to tell her fabulous stories of the things he had seen at sea. Her mother was always happy to spend whatever free time she had with Connie, reading or cooking with her. As older parents, they differed from their neighbours in one major respect: they had only one child, whilst most of the other fishing families had many. This had not been a conscious decision, just the way that life had worked for them, and they were philosophical about their lot. “There’s some as have many, and some as have few, and it’s how much love you give, and not how much you get that’s important,” Constance’s mother was wont to say when thoughtless people asked indelicate questions. Constance did not mind at all that she had no siblings, never missing what she never had. As an adult, she would realise how her parents had been careful to include her in their conversation, encourage her to speak her mind, always having time for her, and she also realised how much some of her friends would have envied this, just as she envied them their tight familial bonds. As a child, when playing with her neighbours, she’d wonder at the closeness they showed to their siblings, whether in a fit of protectiveness or rage, and wondered why she didn’t have a little sister to dress up, or a big brother to run to when playground fights got rough. When she asked her father about this, her father told her that they’d wanted many children, but been sent only one, and that families came in all shapes and sizes, and what mattered was loving each other and looking after each other. After some thought, Constance decided that this was a perfectly satisfactory answer.
Most of all, she enjoyed her father’s stories. When he was home from his long fishing trips, he would make sure to tell her all about the marvellous things that he had seen on his travels; the tall sailing ships they passed, sails billowing in the morning sun, looking for all the world like beaten gold, the whales that grew larger than their cottage, but that ate animals smaller than the shrimp that Constance loved; the seals basking on the rocks (these, he assured her, were really mermaid-dogs). And he told her the folklore of the Island – he told her of the fairies who, in ancient times, had laid down the enormous rocks on the headland, which pointed directly out to the sunrise, and were different colours from any other rock found on the Island. He told her of the mermaid who came ashore and turned to stone, and could be seen down at the harbour promenade, watching over the town. “She wanted to come ashore, but weren’t built for it, see? That’s why she’s laughing, and why her back’s turned to the harbour – she was happy to end up on land after all.” He told her of the rumours of long-lived pale Sims, who were found opposite the graveyard. “That’s why, Connie, people stay away from the graveyard. It was built by the crossroads so as to confuse any as might want to leave the graveyard and cause harm, see?” Connie didn’t really see why a crossroads would be so confusing, but nodded solemnly. “Good girl. Not but what there’s treasure enough in that graveyard for them as’d seek it, mind…” This sounded thrilling, but to her disappointment, he quickly left the subject.
The stories she requested most often were about the green dolphins. To her regret, her father had never seen a green dolphin, and neither had anyone he’d ever heard of, although he’d heard stories in the local pub. “But sometimes, Connie, when the storm seems like it’s lasted for days, and you can’t remember which way is up, and you’re tired and aching and you can’t get dry, and you still have to climb the mast to rope up a loose sail, and you’re convinced that this time, maybe you’ll lose the fight and the sea will win it…” Constance shivered happily at the thought, warm and safe in her bed, and young enough to believe that her father would win every fight and live forever “…maybe then, you’ll see a splash that doesn’t seem to be part of a wave, and you’ll catch a glimpse of green out of the corner of your eye, and you’ll know that the storm has reached its peak, and the ship will be safe in harbour afore long. The Green Dolphins are there to look after those as need it. They’ve always looked after this Island. That’s why we called ourselves Green Dolphin Island. The ocean is our mother too, see. We owes our lives to her. Infinite, she be, in power and beauty.”
“What does innifite mean, Papa?” Constance asked, always alert for new wisdom.
“Infinite means endless, dear one. Now you need to go to sleep, if you want your papa to take you fishing in the morning.” Her mother bustled in, smelling deliciously of clean clothes and baking, to tuck Constance in, and take Joseph off to bed.
